“He didn’t compare the two, ser.” Norstaan smiles. “He might have had that in mind, though.”
As Lerial rides up to the white-painted wrought-iron gates, he can see that Maesoryk’s summer villa is markedly different from Jhosef’s. The three-story buff stone building is set on a low rise less than fifty yards from the water, facing south, and it appears as if every other chamber facing the lake has its own railed and roofed balcony. The road leading to the gates is graveled, as it has been for the entire way since splitting from the main paved road that runs from Swartheld to Lake Jhulyn and then to Lake Reomer, although the narrow lane beyond the gates leading to the villa and outbuildings is paved. There are only three outbuildings, all comparatively modest, and the grounds are enclosed by a stone wall two yards high topped with another yard of the white iron grillework. The pier out into the lake is far shorter and narrower than the one at Jhosef’s villa.
The greatest difference is that the two guards at the gates immediately open them, proclaiming, “Welcome to Sorykan, Lord Lerial.”
That welcome in itself, with the quick recognition of Lerial, suggests Maesoryk has anticipated their arrival … or at least the arrival of someone dispatched by Rhamuel. The fact that Maesoryk himself appears at the entry to the villa almost as soon as the Mirror Lancers rein up reinforces Lerial’s suspicion, although he can sense no concentrations of order or chaos in or around the villa and its grounds, nor any sign of a shielded mage or wizard.
“Welcome! Welcome! I hadn’t expected you, Lord Lerial, of all people, to ride to Lake Leomyn, but when I heard that you had paid a call on Jhosef, I thought you might chance this way.” Maesoryk’s voice is warm and cheerful, but reminds Lerial of the insinuating feel of Jhosef’s mage. He also has more than a few doubts about Maesoryk’s just “hearing” of a visit more than fifteen kays away.
“We ended up paying more than a call on Jhosef,” Lerial says before dismounting and walking across the paving of the entry portico to meet the merchanter. He gestures for Norstaan to accompany him.
“Do come in and tell me all about it.” Maesoryk radiates curiosity. “It must be a fascinating story.”
“We might at that,” Lerial agrees, silently checking his shields, “although the story is more sordid than fascinating, but then some people do in fact find the sordid more fascinating than honorable accomplishments.”
“That is a fascinating observation as well.” Maesoryk gestures, then turns. “We can sit on the terrace outside the study.”
Lerial and Norstaan follow him through the square entry hall to a wide staircase and up that to the second level. The white walls are almost bare of decoration, except for two identical hangings, one on each side of the staircase,
“Are those your merchanting house crest?” asks Lerial.
“What else would they be? They’re a reminder of what makes all this possible.”
At the top of the staircase, the merchanter turns to his right, then takes the first door on the left, which leads into a comparatively modest study, one that is seven yards by five, with a small fireplace on the left wall, and a desk set against the wall on the right. Between the two is a plaques table with chairs for six people. Maesoryk eases around the table and out onto the roofed terrace, where four armchairs are set in an arc facing the balcony railing and the lake. The merchanter takes the chair on the end farthest from the door and gestures.
Lerial seats himself at the other end, and Norstaan sits beside Lerial.
“You were going to tell me about Jhosef and your call upon him?” prompts Maesoryk.
“We weren’t exactly welcomed,” Lerial begins, “and when we finally entered the grounds a company of armed guards attempted to stop us. When we reached the villa, Jhosef was waiting on a high terrace. When I suggested he might have had something to do with the death of Lord Mykel, he said that was the last thing on his mind, or words to that effect, and then he most pleasantly suggested that I join him in the villa to discuss the future of Afrit. He left the terrace, and we proceeded to the main entrance. Undercaptain Norstaan and I entered. In the main entry hall, we were met by Jhosef, Mykel, and Oestyn. Jhosef suggested that Duke Rhamuel’s rule would be short and that the only one of his lineage that the merchanters of Afrit would accept as duke would be Mykel. I begged to differ, whereupon a chaos-mage who had concealed himself with wizardry attacked me. I defended myself, and managed to lay a blade on him. Since he was steeped in chaos, that was sufficient to kill him.
“When that happened, young Oestyn appeared from nowhere and stabbed his father in the back. Jhosef ordered a second wizard to kill all of us as he struggled with Oestyn. The young wizard used chaos on Mykel and attempted that on me. He was unsuccessful, but by the time I had dealt with him, Oestyn had killed his father and then slit his own throat.”